


Look Down, Look Down That Lonesome Road, Before You Travel On

by Saklani



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/pseuds/Saklani
Summary: Written for Gingerpilot Week 2020 Day 2: SoulmatesPoe Dameron had received two messages from his soulmate in the course of his life, one when he was a child, and one when he was 42 years old.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67
Collections: Gingerpilot Week 2020





	Look Down, Look Down That Lonesome Road, Before You Travel On

**Author's Note:**

> I used the real ages of Oscar Isaac and Domhnall Gleeson rather than the stated ages of Poe Dameron and Armitage Hux in this story. I find them more believable in the context of each character, and they work better for the plot.

At the age of forty-two, Poe Dameron finally met the man whose writing had scrawled across his left forearm only twice in his life. Once over thirty years earlier, when the words “Soulmates are for the weak.” in neat black print spread across the space between his elbow and his wrist. And once, a few days earlier, when the words, “My name is Armitage Hux.” suddenly appeared, and his entire existence flipped on its head.

As a small child, he’d been told about how his mother and father were soulmates, a rare and blessed event in the hugeness of the galaxy, between two people meant for each other. And he’d hoped that he, too, might be special and deserving enough to have his own. He’d spent the years between six and ten scrawling his name, drawings and all kinds of other inanities over his right arm in the hope that his soulmate might see them and respond.

And then the first and only response.

He’d showed his father (desperately wishing for the mother lost to him for over three years), trying to hide the tears that stung his eyes. They’d agreed his soulmate might have cruel parents who didn’t believe or want their child to have a soulmate (whatever the reason), and Poe needed to be careful about trying to reach out lest his soulmate be endangered. He would wait until his soulmate was probably old enough to hide the words and then try again.

So, he did, trying not to be anxious about his soulmate’s welfare or the unmitigated blankness of his left arm. (The loneliness of never dating, never looking for another person, along with his father’s continued sorrow over the loss of his own soulmate played their part in driving him to spice running.) 

At 21, he finally tried again, writing, “I can help you.” on his arm and waiting for a response that never came. He tried several times over the course of four months before giving up.

He tried for three months at 22. For two at 23. For a single week at 24. Before he gave up for good.

From then on, he made up for all his years of going without, waiting for a soulmate who would never be his. He took on a steady line of conquests during his time in the New Republic Defense Fleet (though never his fellow pilots), leaving a trail of satisfied lovers or broken hearts wherever he wandered. A few times, he even tried to make it serious. 

But the heart he could never satisfy was his own.

He settled down by the time he joined the Resistance, accepting that he was a friend to all, but a partner to none. He threw his heart and soul into the cause, willing to take on the riskiest of missions not only because he was the best pilot they had, but because he had the least to lose of them all. 

And through all those years, his left arm remained stubbornly blank.

Blank when the First Order finally emerged from the shadows and destroyed the Hosnian System.

Blank when Poe blew up the Starkiller Base.

Blank when he betrayed himself and his cause, nearly destroying them all in the process.

Blank when he tried desperately to redeem himself (more in his eyes than anyone else’s).

But as they flew toward Kijimi, desperate to find the key to the location of the wayfinder to Exegol, the strangest feeling suddenly stung Poe’s arm. He ignored it, too focused on what had to get done, until Finn said, “There’s something on your arm.” 

“I am Armitage Hux.”

Poe stared at the words uncomprehendingly for several minutes, until Rey said gently (and with reverence), “You have a soulmate?”

“Yes,” Poe whispered, almost remembering his excitement the first time letters started to appear on his arm. “Yes.”

“General Hux?” Finn asked dubiously, reading his bared forearm.

“Yes?” Poe answered, tracing the letters with one finger. “I’ve only ever seen letters on my arm a long time ago, when I was a kid. He never wrote again or answered anything I wrote.”

“Well, he has now,” Rey said. “What are you going to do?”

“Do? What am I going to do?” Poe echoed. “Oh. Kriff. What am I going to do? I- I don’t know...we can’t stop what we’re doing now.” But he’d grabbed a writing implement and stuck it in his shirt, intending to find a quiet moment to write something on his arm in response.

Instead, they ended up running all over Kijimi, nearly getting killed by Zorii Bliss, having to erase C3PO and choosing to go to Ren’s Star Destroyer to retrieve both Chewbacca and the dagger. And being captured by Stormtroopers.

“Actually, I’d like to do this myself,” General Armitage Hux said, and Poe’s blood ran cold. He was about to be gunned down, in the back, by his own soulmate. (Who would probably die in the doing. There were legends about killing one’s own soulmate.) He distracted himself with banter to Finn, not wanting to just stand there frozen while it happened. He ignored the powering up sound, but his shoulders hunched automatically at the blasts.  
He didn’t die. They didn’t die.

“I’m the spy,” General Hux said, and Poe yelled, “What?” even as Finn yelled, “You!?”

“We don’t have much time,” Hux said.

Poe paused a second and then yelled, pointing at Armitage with his bound hands, “I knew it!” And even as Finn protested, “No, you did not,” and Chewbacca was chewing them both out, Poe was scrabbling the writing implement out of his shirt. Unable to write with his hands, he stuck it in his mouth, ducked his head and scribbled frantically all over his right forearm.

Armitage’s face turned a strange shade of red as he glanced down at his own left arm. He dropped the blaster, which Finn scrambled to snare, and bared his own skin. He stared at the crazy random streaks of black that were painted there now. “You?” he asked, disbelief colored by something close to wonder.

Poe nodded frantically and spit out the writing tool, before scrambling forward to meet his soulmate, who was headed for him. He grabbed hold of the perfectly starched black uniform top in both hands (still hobbled by the binders) and yanked Armitage into a kiss that curled both their toes inside their boots. The universe suddenly snapped into perfect, startling clarity all around him, and for the first time in 42 years Poe understood his place. 

It was here, with his soulmate.

“Uh, guys, I thought we didn’t have much time,” Finn said, even as Chewbacca grumbled about everyone being idiots. 

“Right,” Armitage said, cheeks still stained with a blush and lips slightly swollen. “I’ll take you to your ship.”

“Uh uh. You’ll take us to our ship,” Poe corrected firmly, loving how Armitage’s cheeks colored even more.

“Yes. Uh. Of course. Our ship,” Armitage stuttered. “This way.” 

And then they were off, through the corridors of the Star Destroyer again, off to save the galaxy together. 

Like it was meant to be.


End file.
